The Wallflower
by theme
Summary: Flowers are beautiful and cherished things, but what about the weeds?


**A/N: **If you'd like to read more, let me know, and I'll post more. I love reviews and constructive criticism.

**Prologue**

Wallflowers are sweet scented flora of the genus _Cheiranthus. _They were given this title because they are apt to cling to walls. This was then loosely compared to the poor unfortunates forced to lean against the wall – looking like bloody prats, mind - at social events due to sociopathic tendencies. This leads us to the present. To think I could be doing something useful with my time, like studying. Alas, I'm here among my fellow peers. Whilst I'm dancing in a circle of friends, who can hardly be called that, he's left to the wall. So attached and immobile he stands. Shame washes over me, hitting me like a tidal wave. Memories of bad taste take over my mind; words are at the tip of my mouth and actions are one moment away. Knowing that I once stood in his shoes, cause my stomach to churn with guilt. tentative

Had someone asked who I would've chosen to spend that night with, I would've chosen him. No other person could make me laugh the way he did. He was the only one who could make me smile, stop my tears, and make me feel safe. My oddities were never a problem with him. For several years at Hogwarts, he was the only one who I could relate to. He was always there for me. He put up with all my emotional breakdowns. For five long years, he was the only one who knew me. After he stuck by me, ever so reliable, I left him for a group of girls, dull and depthless as they were. Is this how I repay my best friend?

Turning my head to see Chloé, laughing so happily, I realised I was in the wrong place. She was delighted to be there amongst her friends. That was the point; they were her friends, not mine. These docile, asinine, beauties were unlike me in every way. Their main goal in life was to keep house. I had other plans in mind. Squeezing out of the tight circle we'd made, I knew what I had to do.

"Lily, where do you think you're going?" Chloé demanded.

"Where I'm supposed to be," I replied earnestly. Now aware of the mistake I was making, I quickened my pace, cursing my stupidity. I knew where I was supposed to be, but was it too late to mend the broken, and refill the promises? Would he cast me off for my abrupt betrayal? So many months had passed since we had last spoken. I never stopped caring about him. The only thing that separated us was his utter refusal to speak to me after I left him. Each time he ignored me, it made me miss him all the more.

"We need to talk," I reached for his arm. He flinched and moved it out of my grasp, but walked sullenly behind me. As usual his hair hung over his face, fully obscuring his face. He was avoiding eye contact with me at all costs, as he had been for months. I couldn't be sure but I sensed he would be disagreeable and dismissive. Conversely, his anguish was evident. I knew he didn't want to hear my excuses, pleading, and compromises. I could only hope for forgiveness.

"Severus, I have thought about what I would say to you if I had the opportunity to talk to you again, for a very long time. Sometimes I practise in front of the mirror. Each time, I seem increasingly dimmer and even more like the horrid wretch I am for hurting you," I began timidly. I could feel coldness resonating from him. "If I were you, I would never speak to me again. I would turn around and leave right now, but you're not me. You're not guilty scum begging for forgiveness when they don't deserve it, not even a little bit. I don't deserve your friendship," I continued unsteadily. I bit my lip as my eyes burned, misting over, threatening to spill tears. "If you can ever bring yourself to look at me again, I would be forever grateful," I finished with my head down, unsure if I wanted to see his reaction.

"You're right. You are undeserving, a wretch, scum, and you're definitely dim. You've left out backstabbing git though," he retorted. His words were hurtful while his jaw was set tightly. "Nothing you say justifies what you did. I can't just forgive you. I've already let you go. I have other friends now," he hissed.

"Your _friends_? Don't you see what they're doing to you? Each day you become more like them, more like a Death Eater," I retorted.

"As opposed to what? Wasting my time with you, pretending there's nothing wrong with my life and refusing to accept that life isn't going to get any better for me, becoming weak and oblivious to the world around me. It's changing out there. Either you have power or you're obliterated," he defended.

His eyes bore into, penetrating the very core. Heavy, burning tears fell from my eyes. It had been my only wish not to cry in front of him, but it was too late now. The tear left a stain on my cheek and a heavy memory embedded eternally. My fists were clenched tightly by my sides.

"Severus, when your deeds are carried out, when you've annihilated half of our race, what then? What will be left to you besides your power? After you greedily push everyone in your life away, seeking glory, what pleasure will come to you? Your thirst for power can only lead to your destruction," I snarled.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Mudblood," he disagreed snidely, as he shook with animosity.

"You're just going to push away every happy though and moment until all that's left is your hatred and greed. No good will come of this. When you have done his bidding you will be left alone with nothing and no one-" I continued

"SHUT UP," he yelled.

"– You will live a life devoid of happiness, day after day you will slip deeper into iniquity, forgetting who you are where you came from."

"I told you to shut up," he growled through gritted teeth attempting to leave but I could not let him leave.

Shoving him forcefully into the thick wall, I persisted, "—All alone, filled with regret, unable to escape the horrible things you have done, encumbered in your loneliness," I persevered. He leaned against the wall, still shaken from being bashed against, panting heavily, and temples protuberantly throbbing. "Trapped with the shame of killing your own people, people with families and meaningful lives, unlike the sham you would be living. Your problems will multiply and there will be no coming back. "

"You manipulative, fucking wretch-" he stopped; his face had never looked so red. He was on the verge of spewing out various curse words, most likely followed by unforgiveable curses. His hands were raised, clenching the air. He was about to burst. His hands were still suspended near my face, I swore he was about to strike me. He didn't want to listen anymore. His hoarse hands enveloped my head; as he leaned down to kiss me violently. Our seething fury for one another ignited fiery intensity to the kiss. Lip locked and fuming, my tears dried. I was out of control, shaking from rage, and convinced it was wrong. The rush of emotions took me by storm, clouding my senses and ability to rationalize. Passion cannot rationalize; it consumes.


End file.
